By Joseph L. Garcia, Senior Reporter
DURING a visit BusinessWorld took to Vienna in October, the Austrian capital felt just like the setting of a fairy tale. Across our hotel on the Neuer Markt square (the brand new market, but it surely had been so because the Middle Ages) stood the shop of A.E. Köchert, jewelers to the Habsburgs, the previous Imperial dynasty of Austria (and once, the Holy Roman Empire). Their windows displayed diamond tiaras, while street performers nearby sang arias, and waltzed with their audience. Bells from St. Stephen’s Cathedral woke the square, populated by old-world shops filled with just one specialty: fur, or silver, or stationery.
Every fairy tale has an end, nonetheless, and for the rulers of the House of Habsburg, they were reminded of this by the Kapuzinergruft, the Imperial crypt. Positioned in the identical Neuer Markt square (it was a two-minute walk from our hotel), that is where members of the Habsburg family were laid to rest. Oddly enough, it’s a mere seven-minute stroll from their once-seat of power, the Hofburg Palace (except for being a museum, it also houses the offices of the Austrian president, now Alexander Van der Bellen). The Hofburg Palace complex also holds their treasures on the Schatzkammer (the Imperial Treasury), for all to gawk at and see — at the least one thing is true: you actually can’t take it to your grave.
The Habsburg dynasty once ruled over several territories beyond their capital in Vienna, which now constitute a big chunk of continental Europe: most of Germany, the trendy Czech Republic, Spain, Italy, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland, and so far more — all united under the Habsburg crown. A succession of wars broke up the empire through the years, concluding within the Napoleonic Wars, which ended the Holy Roman Empire and gave birth to the Austro-Hungarian Empire — later to be dissolved, together with Habsburg rule, within the ashes of World War I. Regardless of — while pieces of the empire were lost in war, the Habsburgs maintained their influence over most of Europe through strategic marriages, hence the family motto: Bella gerant alii, tu felix Austria nube (“May others go to war, you comfortable Austria, marry”).
The Kapuzinergruft, maintained in perpetuity by the Capuchin friars, was founded in 1618 by Anna of Tyrol, wife of the Habsburg emperor Matthias. Their coffins, product of lead, are among the many first you see when you enter the crypt — but then there are such a lot of tombs (about 150), it really will depend on where your eyes rest first. To see the tombs of the Habsburgs, one pays about €8.50. For the reason that crypt remains to be a working church and monastery, guests are told by an indication to maintain their voices down, to not take videos or photos with flash, and never to the touch anything. During our visit on Oct. 12, there was only one other hushed tour group, wearing headsets, while a priest guided them through the tour, speaking in low tones into his own headset.
We disregarded some Habsburgs (sorry), and went to the tomb holding Empress Maria Theresa and her husband, Franz Stefan I, Holy Roman Emperor. Empress Maria Theresa (who died in 1780) and her offspring modified much of the world: she introduced education reform across her dominions, and united all of them under one code of laws in her name. Her son, Joseph II, expanded upon these reforms and introduced legal freedom to the serfs in 1782, ending serfdom in most of Europe (and in a way, nudging within the Industrial Revolution). His successor, younger brother Leopold II, fought against the French for his sister, Marie Antoinette, trapped within the French Revolution. His son, Francis, continued this battle into the French Revolutionary Wars (he failed to avoid wasting his aunt from the guillotine, and wasn’t very much considering doing so, based on accounts), later evolving into the Napoleonic Wars. The resulting Congress of Vienna helped shape Europe as we realize it today.
Maria Theresa and her husband’s tomb stands in the middle of a vault: impressive, large as a small ship, beneath a dome where sunlight streams in. Veiled spirits guard her baroque tomb, and amidst all this splendor, a skull: a reminder of what all of us turn into after death, regardless of how great the life led (it’s, nonetheless, still a skull wearing an imperial crown). Her successor, Joseph, lies in front of his parents, in humbler style, as per his own wishes: the inscription on his plain tomb is nearly faded, reading: Hier liegt ein Fürst, der trotz der besten Meinung keiner seiner Pläne durchsetzen konnte (“Here lies a ruler who, despite his best intentions, was unsuccessful in all of his endeavors”).
His wife Isabella’s tomb, by a corner, modified the world in its own way, affecting the Habsburg matchmaking game. Archduchess Josepha was forced by her mother Maria Theresa to hope for her sister-in-law within the crypt. In accordance with accounts, Isabella’s tomb was improperly sealed, and her body infected her sister-in-law with smallpox, which later killed her. With the death of Archduchess Josepha, earmarked as a bride for Naples, her sister Maria Carolina, intended as a bride for France, took her place, and in turn, younger sister Marie Antoinette was sent to France. No smallpox, no Marie Antoinette, no Napoleon, no Congress of Vienna, no Austro-Hungarian Empire, no World War I — and maybe, little of the conflicts we see today.
We saw other Habsburg tombs: there’s Marie Christine, Maria Theresa’s favorite daughter, and everybody’s least favorite sibling (Marie Antoinette didn’t invite her to the Petit Trianon during a state visit), whose art collection forms the backbone of the Albertina Museum, also close by; Maria Carolina, Marie Antoinette’s favorite sister, also ousted from her throne in Italy. After searching for familiar names from that chapter of history, we went to the tomb of Empress Elisabeth, one other Habsburg celebrity.
Her tomb shares raised space together with her husband, Franz Joseph, and her son, Crown Prince Rudolf, though her husband the Emperor’s tomb is raised in the middle a couple of feet above his wife and child. Elisabeth, affectionately known throughout the world as Sisi, captivated the Belle Epoque world then together with her beauty, her style, and her melancholic life. Stylishly thin due to an eating disorder brought on by the impact of imperial and family life on her mental health, she moved across Europe to avoid staying within the imperial capital of Vienna. Assassinated in 1898, her life and death are the topic of various movies, musicals, even a cartoon. Probably the most recent showcase of her tragic life and its influence in popular culture was most recently seen in 2022, with The Empress streaming on Netflix.
Her tomb will not be lonely. Again, she spares space together with her husband and son (who died in a mysterious suicide in Mayerling) — but to this present day, offerings are laid at her tomb. We saw flowers, a framed photograph of her, and drawings by children telling her they loved her.
Other Habsburgs of her own age are also strangely honored: her brother-in-law, Maximillian, is buried within the Kapuzinergruft as well. Mexican flags and other souvenirs from the country are laid at his tomb, despite failing to successfully rule the weak, newly established Mexican Empire. For this, he was executed in 1867 by forces led by Benito Juarez (which led to the trendy state of Mexico). His wife, Charlotte of Belgium, mourned him to the purpose of insanity — she died a recluse in 1927, outliving the empires that shaped her world.
There are tombs of a comparatively recent make, still retaining their bronzed sheen. They’re conspicuous of their newness: the tombs of the family of Karl, the last Emperor of Austria, who died in 1922. His wife, Zita of Bourbon-Parma, died in 1989, and was laid there to rest. After the dissolution of the Empire, the Habsburgs were exiled from Austria and banned from returning until fairly recently. The ex-Empress was allowed entry only in 1982. After her death, she was declared a Servant of God by Pope Benedict XVI, putting her on the trail to sainthood (which probably explains the floral offerings at her tomb). Probably the most recent entombment was just last 12 months, in 2023, for Princess Yolande de Ligne, the widow of Archduke Carl Ludwig of Austria, a son of the last emperor.
We take some comfort once we are told that in death, we’re all the identical. Judging by the resting place of the Habsburgs, are we sure that’s true? Some graves lie forgotten, while some are cared for by priests, centuries on; flowers laid at their tombs, their names still whispered with reverence. There will probably be no souvenir shops with skull keychains and books about me after I die, that’s obviously. However the map to the Kapuzinergruft argues: “Those that consider that the rich and powerful have erected a final monument of their vanity stand corrected: beauty and splendor are strongly contrasted by bare bones and toothless skulls. Above all there may be a reminder that death can strike everyone — no matter age or rank — at any time.”
